


Breaking Free

by SIM (Evaine)



Series: C'est La Vie [1]
Category: Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-09
Updated: 2009-05-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:17:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evaine/pseuds/SIM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even the Bob-Whites grow up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Free

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first tale in the C'est La Vie universe, and the first Trixie fic I ever wrote.

  
The man that coined the phrase, "The best day of your vacation is your last day at work", certainly never worked for the police department.

A crack house rousting started off the day, followed by a really bad burger for lunch and then, to finish off his shift, a picket line gone bad. He touched his left cheekbone gingerly. Yes, there was going to be a lovely bruise and probably a black eye.

"But I'm on vacation!" he said aloud, closing the door to his apartment behind him and tossing his duffel bag on the sofa. He grinned, in spite of the pain of his bruised face. "For a whole month!" Four weeks of doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Getting out of bed when he decided that it was time to get up, not the alarm clock. Watching old movies on the late, late show without having to worry about an early shift the next day... A month of leisure stretched ahead of him and the thought pleased him to no end. He headed towards the kitchen of his small apartment, pausing only to switch on the CD player. The hard pounding strains of The Cult's 'Sun King' filled the room. Sonic Temple was one of his favorite good-mood CDs.

"Hey there, Guido." He greeted the large grey and white cat that was stretched out in the last patch of late afternoon sunlight coming through the kitchen window. "Ya hungry, fellow?" he asked, bending down to give the feline ears a scratch. A loud, contented purr was the reply. "I guess so." He grinned and proceeded to go about opening a can of cat food and filling the small ceramic dish that was waiting empty on the counter.

By the time the sounds of The Cult had switched over to vintage Aerosmith, he had fed the cat, changed into jeans and a T-shirt, fixed himself a huge chicken sandwich and settled on the sofa with it and a cold beer, ready to relax and read that morning's paper. He was finally beginning to believe that he was really on vacation and it felt good.

Twenty-five year-old Dan Mangan had been with the NYPD for almost three years now, and this year, thanks to some shift switching and covering for some of the other officers at the precinct, he had managed to string together a little over four full weeks of vacation. And this year he needed it. It had been a long and busy twelve months, and he was bone-tired. He loved his job, but right now, he needed a long break.

He finished the paper soon after polishing off his sandwich and beer. With a contented sigh, he stretched out on the sofa and closed his eyes. Guido made himself comfortable on his chest and it wasn't long before both man and cat had drifted off to sleep. The CD player fell silent after playing through Aerosmith, then some classic Queen and then the only sounds in the apartment were the purring of the cat and the even breathing of the man. It had been a long day.

The shrilling of the phone awoke him some hours later. Groaning, he reached for the cordless receiver on the end table and cursed slightly as he realised that he had a crick in his neck. The phone shrilled again and he pressed the button to answer as he sat up.

"Hello?" His voice was rough from sleep.

"Dan?" A familiar female voice greeted him. He ran a hand through his longish, dark, unruly hair.

"Trix? Is that you?" He struggled to banish the wisps of sleep that hung about his consciousness.

"It's me, Danno," came the reply. "I woke you, didn't I?" There was a sheepish little chuckle at the other end of the connection.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. What's up? Is something wrong?" Why he should immediately jump to that conclusion, he didn't know.

"Well, sort of....." Her voice trailed off for a moment. "I know it's late, but can I come over?" Was that a hint of desperation he heard in her voice?

"You're back in town?" he asked, somewhat confused. When he'd last talked to Trixie she'd been on her way down south for a story. That was about a month ago.

"Yeah, just got in this morning. Dan....." Her voice trailed off again and he swore he heard a slight catch in her breath, almost a sob. Something was definitely not right.

"Trix, you get over here right away, you hear?" He jumped to his feet, much to the surprise of the cat who had settled next to him. "Do you want me to come and get you?"

"No, no. I'll be there soon," she said, relief apparent in her tone. "Thanks, Dan." The line clicked and she was gone.

Dan stared at the phone in his hand for a bewildered moment. Trixie Belden calling him in the middle of the night? He glanced at his watch - three-thirty in the blessed morning!

"Something weird is going on here, Guido," he said to the cat who meowed back at him. Dan shook his head and proceeded to gather up the remnants of his supper and take them to the kitchen. He was just about to dry off his plate when the doorbell rang.

"That was mighty quick!" He muttered and hurried to the door. He flung it open and there she stood, a quirky smile on her lips as she looked up at him with wide, china-blue eyes.

"I was parked in front of your building when I called. I used my cell." She answered his unspoken question. "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Of course!" He stepped aside and ushered her into the apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. Baffled was the only word he could think of to describe himself as he noted the blue knapsack she deposited by the door. "Trix, what's going on?"

"Too many things to explain quickly," she told him with a small smile. "How about a cup of coffee?" she suggested.

"Come on into the kitchen, then." Yep, definitely baffled.

"Okay, Trix, tell me what's going on," he demanded, once the kettle had boiled and two cups of coffee sat between them on the small kitchen table. "This is a little off-the-wall, even for you." He smiled at the small, blond woman sitting across from him.

"Well, the easiest to explain is my apartment." She began with a sigh, cupping her hands around the coffee mug.

"Your apartment?" he repeated encouragingly. There was something strained about her that was so unlike the Trixie he knew. Something had happened in the past month, something had put a damper on the usually high-spirited woman who was one of his best friends.

"My apartment." She went on. "I came back into town this morning and found that the building was being fumigated! I can't go in there for at least a week!" She took a sip of coffee. "They've had to do some work on the walls as well, something about mice. Probably rats," she chuckled ruefully. "Anyway, I'm homeless for at least another week."

"No you're not." He told her quickly. "You can stay here. Unless you  
want to go back to Sleepyside for the duration?"

"God, no!" she protested too quickly. "I can't go home right now!" She bit her lower lip in agitation.

"Okay, you can stay here. There's not much room, but what I have is yours." Dan grinned at her and she smiled back.

"Thank you." She said. "It beats the hotel room I was living in down south. Would you believe it? All four walls were painted canary yellow! I must ask Di or Honey if that's the latest thing in the decorating world," she chuckled.

"So, how was your trip south?" he asked. "Did you get your story?"

Trixie was fast becoming one of the best young investigative reporters in the New York news world. A couple of the TV networks had approached her recently to make the jump from print to television reporting and he knew she was contemplating the move. They had discussed it a few times before her departure, over a couple of beers in a small bar that both of them frequented. He thought she'd end up making the move. He thought she should. She'd be terrific on the television. Not only had she grown from a cute teenager to a lovely young woman, but she knew her stuff. She had modeled herself on Christiane Amanpour, one of the best investigative reporters, male or female, in the business.

"Yeah, I got my story." Trixie's head bowed as she studied the depths of her coffee mug. "I still have to write the damned thing. Oh, Dan!" She gulped a sudden sob. "It was awful! I haven't slept properly for days."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dan reached a hand out to cover hers. He knew her story had something to do with runaways, teenage girls, being sold into sexual slavery and sent out of the country. He empathised with her. He saw terrible things every day in his job as a police officer, but then he'd always figured he could handle it thanks to his early years on the streets of New York. Trixie hadn't been brought up knowing that these types of things even existed. Since she'd become a reporter, she had seen many things that her upbringing really hadn't prepared her for.

"No, Dan, not yet." She raised her head and smiled tremulously at him. "Just knowing that you understand helps a lot. No one else really does." She admitted. "I'll let you read the story as I write it, okay?"

"Whatever you want, Trix." He gave her hands a quick squeeze. "Whenever you're ready."

"Why are you always so good to me?" She asked suddenly. "You never lecture, you always seem to understand what I can't say, you give me space - knowing that I'll eventually spill everything to you. You trust me, don't you, Dan?" Her blue eyes were wide as they held his gaze.

"Yes, I do." He told her, then arched an eyebrow. "You spoke to Jim tonight, didn't you?" He surmised, and she nodded.

"I don't know, I guess I thought, once again, that he'd realise....." Her voice trailed off and she shook her blond curls, her eyes welling with tears. "But this was the last time, Dan." She dashed at her eyes angrily. "It's hard enough doing the job I've chosen. I don't need to fight him every inch of the way, every time I have a new story to investigate. I don't need the aggravation." Behind the tears her eyes flashed with impatience.

"What happened this time?" Dan wasn't surprised. Since their teenage days when they'd all hung together, Jim Frayne had been the light of Trixie's life. And Jim had returned the feelings, this he knew for certain. But Jim could never bear to let Trixie have her head about anything. He was always worried about what she was doing, worrying about her safety, worrying that she was too headstrong and would get herself into trouble some day. As they had grown into adulthood, and Trixie found herself headed for a career in investigative journalism it had gotten worse. Jim was always cautioning her about something. He wanted her keep her safe and sound at home in Sleepyside, at his side, helping him build his school. The school was his life dream. Trixie supported him even when others told him that it couldn't be done, especially by someone as young as he. Of course, Jim didn't think he was doing anything wrong. He wanted what was best for Trixie, and he thought that it was by his side, safe and sound. James Winthrop Frayne II could be a righteous pain in the ass at times.

"I don't want to discuss him right now, Dan," Trixie said angrily. "Once again, I went to him for some comfort, and all I got was lectures and I told you so's!"

"He means well, Trix." Dan offered weakly and received an icy blue glare in reply. "Okay, he's a total jerk," he amended with a shrug. There was a small, not-very-nice part of him that was just a little gleeful about this turn of events. Jim was one of his best friends, but he was just so darned perfect sometimes!

"Yes he is." Trixie agreed firmly, downing the last of her coffee. At least her tears had stopped, he realised thankfully. "Gleeps, Danno! It's four thirty in the morning!" She glanced at his kitchen wall clock in amazement. "Dan....an Oscar the Grouch clock in your kitchen?" She began to giggle in spite of herself. "Is that new?"

"Your brother sent it to me a couple of weeks ago." Dan explained with a grin and a roll of his dark eyes. "Mart stayed with me for a weekend and it wasn't a very good weekend for me. He informed me that I was the grouchiest person he knew. Hence, the clock." He chuckled. "I don't think he believed that I'd actually put it up."

"I'll be your witness." Trixie smiled, then sighed. "I miss Mart. He's been so busy touring with his book. It's been eons since we got together. But I'm so happy for him. Imagine, his first book on the bestseller list!" Her anger and sadness seemed to have passed for the moment, even though Dan was certain that it still lurked just beneath the surface. It would come out again when it was ready to, and he'd be waiting for it.

"I've read it twice. It's really good." Dan was proud of his best friend. He didn't tell Trixie that he'd bought copies of the book for all his shiftmates at the station. "Trix, maybe you should get some sleep?" he suggested as she stifled a yawn. "You can take my bed. It hasn't been slept in, I was crashed on the sofa when you called. We can figure something more efficient tomorrow." He forestalled the argument he could see forming on her lips. "Honest, Trixie, I don't mind at all. Don't give me a hard time, okay?" He wagged a finger at her.

"Okay, we'll argue about it tomorrow." She gave in with a grin. "But we will argue about it, I promise you." She grabbed at his finger and her expression sobered. "Dan, I don't know how to thank you. What would I do without you?" She smiled sweetly and for not the first time in his life he found himself thinking that this girl had absolutely no idea how adorable she was.

"C'mon, kiddo, off to bed. We'll talk more tomorrow. I'm on vacation." He grinned, getting to his feet.

Dan settled Trixie in his bedroom in short order, and soon found himself stretched out on the sofa once again, the cat curled at his feet. His vacation had certainly begun with a bang. He had the feeling that Trixie needed someone right now, and he was glad that he would be able to give her his full attention. Timing was everything, sometimes, he reflected just before drifting off to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Trixie sat at the kitchen table and gazed fondly through the doorway at the form sprawled on the sofa. Once Dan had left her alone in the bedroom, after tucking her in as if she were a six-year old, it hadn't taken long before she'd fallen asleep. And thankfully, it had been a dreamless sleep. She had awoken just after ten and crept out of the bedroom in search of a cup of coffee. She didn't want to wake her host if she could help it. He'd seemed so tired last night. She quietly made a pot of coffee, then sat at the table reading through some of the stack of comic books she had found stacked in Dan's room.

Dan could be such an odd bird at times, she thought as her mind drifted from the colourful pages in front of her. He could be so serious and business-like about things, especially things that had to do with his work as a police officer. And as a youngster, she had thought him far too quiet sometimes. Mind you, his close association with her brother Mart had cured him of some of that, she remembered. The two of them could be hell on wheels when they got together. Then there was the whimsical side of him. The side that still enjoyed comic books, didn't hesitate to put a Sesame Street character clock on his kitchen wall, and still kept a picture of the group of teen aged Bob-Whites framed on a table in his living room.

And Guido! Trixie knew how much Dan loved that animal. She had been with him the day Dan brought him home from the shelter, a scrawny, underfed, loud two month old kitten. He needed company in his apartment in the city, Dan had claimed. He missed all the wild creatures that inhabited the game preserve that he'd called home during his teenage years living with Mr. Maypenny. Guido was the king of this household. She looked at him, ensconced in a battered, handle-less, lid-less picnic basket that now served him as a bed. He was certainly far from scrawny now, she observed.

Dan moved slightly in his sleep, drawing her attention back to the living room. She had been so relieved to hear his voice when she had called so early that morning. He could so easily have been working the overnight shift and then what would she have done? Gone home to Sleepyside? Not bloody likely! Moms and Dad would have been thrilled to see her, but she didn't feel she could take their well-meaning concern and pampering. They still had not come to terms with her career choice even though they tried hard to hide it.

She could have gone to Honey and Brian's, but she didn't want to be in the middle of all that suburban domesticity and even though she would have loved to confide all her troubles to her best friend, Honey was far too busy with the kids and her husband. So she had called Dan. Dan who in some ways understood her far better than her parents, her brothers or her best friend. He certainly understood better than Jim Frayne did! Jim, who had once professed such deep feelings for her but never did anything about them! Jim, who never passed up an opportunity to lecture her about something! Jim, who could be a self-righteous, honourable, smug pain in the posterior far too often. Jim, who she had finally decided belonged to her past, not her future.

"And that's all there is to it!" She exclaimed aloud, smacking her hand on the table.

"Wha...? Who....?" Dan shot to a sitting position, looking around in confusion and Trixie clapped the offending hand over her mouth. "Oh, good morning." He looked blearily into the kitchen and smiled at her.

"I'm sorry, Dan." She giggled. "I got carried away with my thoughts and forgot I wasn't alone. I didn't mean to wake you."

"If that's coffee I smell, and if you'll pour me a cup while I go clean up a little, I'll forgive you." He grinned.

"Deal." She returned his grin. She busied herself at the kitchen counter as he disappeared into the bathroom. Just when had he gotten so sexy, she found herself wondering. That unruly dark hair that was in terrible need of a trim, those sleepy dark eyes, those broad shoulders. He certainly had filled out nicely over the past couple of years, she mused. For not the first time, she wondered why there wasn't a woman in his life. Well, a serious woman, she amended with an inner chuckle. Dan never lacked for female company when he wanted it. This she knew for a fact.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, coming into the kitchen and taking a seat at the table.

"Surprisingly well." She said, setting a mug in front of him and heading back to her own spot with a fresh mug for herself. "How about you?" She asked with a guilty little smile. It couldn't have been comfortable on that sofa all night long.

"Well, I've got this little crick in my neck, and my back has seen better mornings, but all in all, not too bad." He grinned in response.

"Gleeps, Dan! I'll take the sofa tonight." She offered quickly.

"Let's worry about it later, okay?" He sipped at his coffee. "Have you thought about what you want to do today?"

"Today, I want to do absolutely nothing." She stated, then sighed. "But what I want and what I have to do are two different things. I have to make a few phone calls and I probably should work on my story." She drummed her fingers on the tabletop in agitation. "But, I don't want to work on my story just yet."

"So don't," he said simply. He smiled at her skeptical look. "Look, make your phone calls and then we'll declare the rest of the day off. You need to relax some, Trix, before you start putting your story together." He observed shrewdly and she found herself nodding in agreement. He was right. "How about we take a walk around town this afternoon, then we'll come home, grab some videos on the way and I'll make you supper. After we eat, we can watch the videos and just basically laze about. I'll even spring for a bottle of wine."

"You're on." She grinned, pushing her inner demons to the back of her mind. She'd play Scarlett O'Hara today and think about it all tomorrow. A day of ease with one of her best friends was about the best idea she could think of right now. "But, while I make my phone calls I'm going to have to do some wash. I have a bag of dirty clothes in the trunk of my car that I didn't exactly get the chance to deal with when I was down south."

"And I assume that there's no way you're getting into your apartment for a bit." Dan raised an eyebrow. Trixie shook her blond curls.

"Nope. Mrs. Hutchins, my landlady took care of everything while I was away, getting ready for all the fumigating and stuff, you know putting things away that might get damaged and stuff like that. But the apartment is locked up tighter than a drum until they're done. So I have to live with what I took south with me." She explained. "I'm not exactly a clothes horse, but I do enjoy a change of underwear, you know?" She grinned.

"You can be so decadent, Beatrix Belden." Dan teased, using her full name. The one that she had hated so much as a teenager but was now somewhat  
resigned to the fact that it wasn't going to change.

"Yeah, right. Me, decadent!" she giggled, rolling her blue eyes. She got up to pour them another cup of coffee and switched on the radio on the countertop at the same time. The strains of Chicago's 'Saturday in the Park' filled the room and she began to hum along under her breath. She loved all those 'golden-oldies'.

"Hey, you want some breakfast?" Dan asked suddenly. "I think I have most of the fixings in the fridge. I'm starving," he admitted with an almost bashful grin.

"That's an idea," Trixie agreed, marveling for not the first time at how comfortable she always felt in Dan's presence. Impulsively, as she placed his mug in front of him, she bent and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. He looked up at her with startled dark eyes. "Thanks for being you, Dan." She said simply.

~*~*~*~*~*~

As it turned out, Trixie didn't start working on her story for another couple of days. She just couldn't bring herself to sit down at her laptop and begin. The weather was wonderful, sunny and warm, so she and Dan spent most of the days out and about the city. The evenings were spent over a leisurely supper and then movies on video.

The sleeping arrangements were finally straightened out after Dan stubbornly spent another night on the sofa. Trixie put her foot down and decreed that if he wasn't going to let her sleep on the sofa, then they were both going to have to share the big bed and that's all there was to it. After all, she had shared much smaller beds with Honey and Di over the years, she said, and as long as Dan didn't kick during the night, everything would be just fine. Dan had given her a very skeptical look and she had just laughed. They were good friends, weren't they? Surely he trusted her not to jump his bones in the middle of the night. He had given in at that point, but the next morning, when she had found him in the laundry room, working out with a pogo stick, of all things, for a fleeting moment, she wondered if she had been right in her assumptions.

Finally, the afternoon of her fourth day at Dan's, she decided that it was time to get down to work. She couldn't avoid it any longer, and truth be told, she didn't want to. The story was clamouring to be told, no matter how hard the telling of it. Dan sensed what was coming, and made plans with a couple of his police buddies for an afternoon at the pool hall and some pizza, leaving the apartment all to her, and she was grateful. She pulled out her laptop and spread her copious notes over the kitchen table. A fresh pot of coffee and she was ready to begin.

As the day progressed, the patch of sunlight working its way from one side of the kitchen to the other, Trixie wrote the story of young girls running from one bad situation into one much worse. Often as she wrote, she would cry, the tears streaming down her cheeks. At other times, she would get up from her chair and pace the kitchen, a look of bleak anger and helplessness on her pert features. This was the hardest assignment she had ever taken and one that would stay with her forever. Guido, the cat, watched all with wise green eyes, curled in his old picnic basket. From time to time, he would come and wind about her feet as she sat at the table, purring slightly, then head back to his bed, almost as if to offer her some support and to let her know that she wasn't alone.

Finally, as Oscar the Grouch pointed his hands to nine o'clock, she was finished. She sat back in her chair and sighed deeply. It was good, she knew. Her story was very good, her editor would be pleased. Tomorrow, she would send it off to the paper over the phone line and that would be that. Raising her arms over her head to stretch tired muscles, she moved to the living room where she rummaged in her backpack, taking out a handful of CD jewel cases. Quickly she selected one and slipped it into Dan's CD player. The comforting strains of Loreena McKennit filled the room and she smiled tiredly. She returned to the kitchen to gather up all her notes and papers, then make herself something to eat. Suddenly she found she was very hungry.

When Dan arrived home over an hour later, he found her stretched out on the sofa, the music playing softly, the cat curled on her stomach as she scratched his ears gently.

"All done?" he asked, and she nodded, moving to curl up in a sitting position. "You look beat, Toots." He observed, turning from the closet where he hung his black leather jacket. Her eyes were red-rimmed and he knew she had been crying.

"It was a long day." She admitted. "But it's done. You can read it if you want, I left the laptop open. Just wait until I go to bed, okay?"

  
"No problem." He came to sit next to her on the sofa. "What's this music? I've never heard it before. It's not my usual taste, but I kinda like it."

"It's Loreena McKennit. One of the girls at the paper introduced me to it a long while ago. Now, when I've finished writing an especially difficult piece, it's what I put on to unwind. It's sort of a ritual now." She explained.

"Hmmm, it's nice." They both fell silent then, listening to the music, both enjoying the companionship of the other. When the CD was finished, Dan insisted that Trixie head off to bed, even though it wasn't quite eleven. He fished about in his CD tower and found some of his softer music before heading into the bedroom to make sure that she was tucked in safely. She looked so young and vulnerable, her golden curls spread out on the pillow, her bluer-than-blue eyes half shut. He dropped a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Sleep well. I'll be following you soon," he said softly and she smiled tiredly. "I'll leave the door halfway open so you can hear the music," he said, leaving the bedroom.

Back in the kitchen, he made himself a cup of coffee and settled in to read Trixie's story. Guido, he noted, had elected to stay with Trixie in the bedroom. As he read, he was reminded of exactly how talented his friend was. She had a natural curiosity and investigative ability that he remembered all too well from their teenage years. Her writing , which had been abysmal in high school, had blossomed into a real gift during university. Thinking of her brother Mart's success, he figured it must run in the family somehow. Yes, she had made the right career choice, most definitely. This had been a hard story for Trixie to write, but she had done a wonderful job.

Once he had finished reading and turned off the laptop, he moved back into the living room, settling on the sofa and listening thoughtfully to the soft music that filled the apartment. He thought about Trixie. He supposed he'd been a little in love with her since the day she'd demanded his help in protecting herself and her little brother from a wild catamount back in the Wheeler game preserve. He loved her spunkiness, her pugnacious attitude towards life, her love of adventure, her 'wild side' as it were. That she was completely adorable, with her wild blond curls, wide blue eyes, light dusting of freckles across her turned up nose, wide mouth made for smiling and kissing, was a complete bonus. Yes, he admitted to himself, he had been carrying a torch for her these past ten years and more. It was killing him to get into bed with her every night and know that he couldn't reach for her and hold her and love her the way he wanted to. But she trusted him, so he spent every morning working out the frustrations with the damned pogo stick. He chuckled inwardly at himself. What a sorry case he was. He leaned back into the corner of the sofa and consoled himself with the thought that he was the one she had turned to this time when she was in trouble.

He was lost in the blues stylings of Eric Clapton when the scream echoed through the apartment. On his feet instantly, he dashed into the bedroom, only to see Trixie sitting up in the bed and sobbing wildly. A moment later, he was next to her, taking her shaking frame into his arms and holding her tightly, all the while murmuring words that he would never be able to remember. She clutched at him, gulping, great sobs wracking her body. All he could do was hold her and let her know that she was not alone. Gradually, she calmed, the interval between sobs lengthening. The trembling began to subside. Finally, she was quiet within the circle of his arms.

"Nightmare?" he asked gently, still rocking her slightly as if she were a small child. Her blond head nodded against his chest, followed by a very inelegant sniff. He quelled a smile. She showed no signs of moving from the haven of his arms, so he slowly leaned back against the headboard of the bed. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I can't remember them." She admitted in a small voice that was very unlike the Trixie he knew. He continued rubbing his hand up and down her back, feeling her relax a little with every stroke. "All I know is that when I've finished a particularly tough story, they come. I think it's how I get rid of the inner anxiety and stress that I tend to hold in while I'm working. I'll have nightmares all night long, but only for the night I've finished the story. I probably should have warned you." She chuckled slightly, sounding a little more like her old self.

"You never told me about them," he observed.

She shrugged. "It's not something I'm terribly proud of. I like to think I'm way too together to indulge in nightmares." She snuggled closer to him and he was suddenly aware that she was clad in an oversized T-shirt and not much else. He rebuked himself severely for the path his thoughts were taking.

"It's not a fault, Trix." he admonished gently. "It doesn't mean you're weak or anything." He knew that was a great fear of hers, to appear weak and fragile.

"Oh, Dan, I know that!" He could smell the scent of the perfume she used and he had to silently chastise himself again. What was he doing letting his thoughts run away with him? Trixie was one of his closest friends. He shouldn't be wanting to turn her face upwards so that he could cover it with kisses. He shouldn't be thinking of how soft her skin would feel against his. He groaned inwardly. "Well," she continued, unaware of what was going through his mind. "I know it intellectually, but it's that darned pride of mine that gets in the way of rational thought sometimes."

"Oh, I know the name of that tune." Dan had his fair share of pride and could attest to the trouble it could cause. "Do you want me to get you a drink of water or something?" he asked, hoping that he could extricate himself from the position in which he found himself without her being any the wiser about the physical stirring she was awakening in him.

"No." She moved her head so that she could look up him with those blue eyes that could send his pulse racing. "I'm quite comfortable here, if you don't mind. As a matter of fact, I feel kind of safe and calm with you holding me." She smiled at him and he felt anything but calm and he wondered exactly how safe she actually was. Soon it was going to become painfully obvious in which direction his thoughts were heading.

"That's my police training." he quipped, trying to joke his mounting desire away. No dice. Her gaze was steady, holding his in the light that spilled into the bedroom from the living room.

"Did I ever tell you that I always had a secret yen for you?" She asked suddenly.

"What are you talking about, Trix?" he asked in confusion. There had been a shift in the mood between them and he felt that he was quickly losing control of the situation.

"From the moment you arrived in Sleepyside with that long hair and black leather gang jacket, you intrigued me," she told him. Where her hand lay upon his chest he felt as if his skin was burning under the thin material of his T-shirt. "I always thought that if Jim wasn't there, you and I would hook up somehow. But, Jim was there, wasn't he?" Her eyes clouded for a moment.

"Jim was always there," he said with more vehemence than he intended. What the hell was she driving at? "You loved him even then, Trix."

"That was then and this is now," she disagreed. With an impatient sound, she raised herself up so that she could look him directly in the eyes. "Let me tell you about Jim Frayne and me."

"Trixie, you're upset about the story. Are you sure you want to get into this right now?" he asked, not sure that he wanted to go where she was headed.

"Yes, I'm sure. No time like the present and all that." He recognised the stubborn set of her jaw and the flash in her eyes and resigned himself to the fact that they were definitely going to have this discussion now. "See, Dan, I loved Jim Frayne from the moment I met him," she began. "I didn't know it back then when I was thirteen, but I assure you, that was how I felt. And he loved me. Everyone thought we should be together and we were only too glad to oblige. Even when he went away to college and we thought about dating other people, we knew that we still loved each other. But you know, the whole time, he was always protecting me, lecturing me, guiding me. He had our whole damned life planned out. I didn't mind so much when I was younger, but when I went off to college myself and started to form more adult ideas of life, I realised that what he had planned was all his. There was no room for me to be what I wanted to be unless I conformed to what he wanted. I tried to talk to him so many times about it, but no way. He's even more stubborn than me, as you well know." Now that she had begun, there was no stopping the stream of words that poured forth from deep within her. All Dan could do was listen and try to understand.

  
"Even our sex life was on his terms!" she went on. "He's so damned honourable and upright that every time we'd start to be intimate, he'd put a stop to it, saying that the time wasn't right. We should wait until we were married. He didn't want to cheapen what we had by making love to me too soon. Have you ever heard anything more ridiculous in your life? You have no idea how often I went to sleep frustrated and wondering what the heck was wrong with me." She tossed her blond curls in agitation, her eyes welling up with angry tears. "I called him when I got back from down south. I needed some understanding and sympathy, I guess, after working on that story. And do you know what he had the gall to say to me?" She demanded rhetorically. "He said 'I told you that you weren't going to be able to handle this type of thing'! If he'd been standing in front of me, I would have decked him! How can I possibly love a man who can't respect what I've chosen to do with my life, who can't show me the least bit of confidence, who can't love me for who I am and not what he thinks I should be, who doesn't even want me enough to make love to me? Don't I deserve more, Dan?" she cried, bursting into anguished tears.

"Oh, Trixie, of course you do!" He gathered her close to him once again. At that moment, he would gleefully have pummeled Jim Frayne to a pulp, not caring that he was one of his closest friends. He let her cry until she had no more tears to shed, holding her tightly. Finally, she gave another of her oh-so-elegant sniffs and became quiet. They lay together on the bed, close and silent for a long while before she spoke again.

"Dan, I'm going to ask you for the biggest favour I've ever asked of anybody," she said tentatively. "I just can't go on like this anymore."

"Anything you want, Trix." He promised swiftly and was rewarded by a watery chuckle.

"Wait until you hear what I want, Dan. You might not be so quick to agree," she warned.

"Try me," he suggested.

  
"Okay." She took a deep breath. "Hear me all the way to the end, all right? Like I said before, Dan, I have always had a secret yen for you. I want you to make love to me. No, wait..." She put a hand to his lips when he would have protested. "I can't say that I feel about you the way I felt about Jim, but I do love you in my own special way. I need some happiness and fun in my life right now, with someone that I care deeply about. And I care very deeply about you. And I sort of sense that you care deeply about me too. I want to have a relationship that's about feeling good, and I always feel good when I'm around you. And I need to know that there's nothing wrong with me as a woman, if you can understand that. And Dan, frankly, sharing this bed with you these past few nights has made me a very curious woman. And you know all about my curiosity." She smiled pertly at him and this time he groaned aloud. Did she have any idea what she was asking? Did she realise how much he wanted to do just as she asked and damn the consequences? She couldn't know how deep his feelings for her went. This would end up breaking his heart, he was certain.

"Trix, I don't know if this is the wisest course of action for us to follow." He tried to be business-like about the whole thing, but felt that he was failing miserably. "The last thing I want to do is cause you more hurt."

"We'll make a pledge, Dan." She said, her eyes shining with excitement now. "We'll promise that we're in this just for fun and companionship. We'll promise that we'll be honest with each other, and if we feel that it's getting out of hand, we'll call it quits. Let's just have a summer that's for us. Throw caution to the winds. Oh, Dan, I need to be wild, just for a little while!" This last was a cry from the heart, and he knew what he had to do. Yes, he loved her, and yes, he knew that he would never be the love of her life; but if he could give her what she needed to make her happy and content with herself, then what did it matter if his heart broke in the process. He had long ago resigned himself to the fact that Trixie wasn't for him. So, he'd go into this with his eyes wide open, and steal a little happiness for himself along the way.

"Trixie, this has to be the most outlandish idea that you've ever come up with in the whole time I've known you." He sighed, feeling that he was about to step off the edge of a precipice. "I just don't want to hurt you!" he repeated as his last line of defence.

"Dan, I need something right now, and my gut tells me that it's you holding the key." She moved so that her face was barely inches away from his. Despite all the tears she had shed this night, she was beautiful. He felt his desire flair anew, even stronger than before. "Please, make love to me," she whispered and he could bear it no longer.

"Oh, Trix." He breathed, giving in at last. Their lips met in a long, gentle, probing kiss. An electric shock coursed through his body as his long recurring dream became reality. He had imagined this for so long, but never thought it would actually happen.

They kissed for a long while, content to lay entwined in each other's arms, Dan determined to let Trixie set the pace. It was her first time, and he wanted it to be the best it could be. The frustration he had seen in her face as she had told him about Jim had wounded him. If ever a woman was made for love, it was her. She was so earthy and vital. It was a sin to not let her enjoy the fullness of intimacy.

He gasped slightly, as her cool hands slid under his T-shirt to run over his chest. The shirt was soon tossed to the floor. Her leg was thrown over his and she slowly moved it upwards over the bulge in jeans, causing him to moan softly. He slid a hand over her silky thigh and over the curve of her buttock, smiling as he discovered its bareness and heard her intake of breath. He had been right, her skin was so incredibly soft. His mouth moved from hers and trailed kisses along her neck. She threw her head back and made a small sound in the back of her throat indicating her pleasure. Her hands were working at his belt now, fumbling in her rising excitement.

"Do you want some help?" he asked with a low laugh. She got to her knees on the bed and nodded silently, her eyes dancing in the faint light. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair touseled and her lips kiss-swollen. All in all, he had never seen a more appealing sight. Quickly, he undid the belt and the button of his jeans, then biting her lip slightly, she pulled the jeans off and sat back on her haunches, eyes wide, drinking in his naked form.

"Gleeps, Dan, I didn't know you went commando!" she exclaimed with a throaty chuckle.

"I don't tell you everything." He countered with a grin. She raised an eyebrow in amusement, then suddenly rose on her knees and pulled her nightshirt over her head.

"My God, Trix! You're beautiful!" he breathed, gazing at her.

Once upon a time, she had been described as sturdy, but as she grew into adulthood, her curves had filled out in all the right places and her frame had slimmed down in all the others. His eyes roamed over her body and he could see as well as sense the flush of pleasure that spread over her. His gaze caressed her and he was glad to notice that she made no effort to hide herself. He'd expected her to be a little shy, but that was not the case. She liked him looking at her hungrily! He raised his hand to trail a finger around the curve of one pert breast so that the rosy nipple puckered and hardened in response. With a smile, he sat up and lowered his head to take that inviting nipple into his mouth, and she moaned aloud. For a few moments, with his tongue and teeth, he teased it, his own desire rising even more at the sounds she made in response. Finally, he laid back down, pulling her down beside him and reclaiming her lips with his own.

His hand moved slowly over the curve of her hip, to her waist and up her ribcage to cup her breast, just as her hands went on an exploratory mission of their own. He bit her lower lip gently and her nails dug into his buttock in reply. He planted a soft kiss on the skin just behind her ear and smiled widely as she moaned again, arching her back in pleasure. As he nibbled her earlobe, her nails ran down his back and he knew there would be welts. Gently, he bit the side of her neck, trailing his hand over the flatness of her belly. As his hand moved even lower, her legs parted, giving him access to the most intimate places of her body.

"Good God, Dan!" she gasped as his fingers explored their moist depths. "Does it always feel like this?" she asked, her eyes opened wide at the new sensations flowing through her.

"When it's done right," he assured her, unable to take his gaze from her face. "Lay back and enjoy it." He suggested, and she did just that, giving over to the passion that suffused her.

"What's wrong?" She asked suddenly, as his ministrations stopped what seemed an eternity later. He kissed her lingeringly before answering.

"Nothing's wrong, it's just time to take some precautions," he said, turning to the bedside table and pulling open the drawer. "You know about precautions?" He smiled.

"Well, I know about them," she said, grinning as he held up a small foil package. "I've never actually manipulated one."

"You are awfully sexy when you smile like that," he told her, handing her the package. She took it from him, ripped it open and proceeded to learn the practical application of a condom. As she rolled it down over his erection, he didn't think he'd be able to hold himself back, but somehow he managed.

"Oh, Dan, I want you so very badly," she breathed, suddenly serious, straining against him as if she wanted to share his very skin. "Will it hurt?" she asked.

"Maybe a little," he told her, raining kisses on her face as he leaned over her. "But you're more than ready." He said as he slid a hand between her thighs.

Slowly, gently, he entered her, his dark eyes watching every expression that played over her face. The amazement, the pleasure, the curiosity, and the moment that he finally pushed as gently as possible past the barrier of her virginity. She winced a little, then her face slowly began to show her passion as he moved slowly, in and out. He watched the expressions move across her features as he brought her to the brink time and time again, only to slack off at the last minute, until finally, there was no holding back for either of them. Her blue eyes flew open as she groaned his name and they both shuddered to a final climax.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my!" she repeated a long while later, still slightly out of breath. "Am I supposed to enjoy it so much?" she asked incredulously.

"That's the point," he chuckled.

"But I thought the first time was supposed to be awful." Trixie rolled on her back and stretched languorously. "That wasn't awful." She grinned.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it." He raised himself up on his elbow and gazed down at her. He had put that look on her face and he was inordinately pleased with himself.

"When was your first time, Dan?" she asked suddenly. Only Trixie would ask such a question with such open curiosity. He could do nothing but answer her honestly.

"My first time was actually in Sleepyside park, behind the bushes at the south end of the football field," he admitted with a wry chuckle. "Not exactly the most romantic spot on earth. I was all of seventeen and hadn't a clue of what I was doing. Neither did she, but we both wanted to do it so badly. We fumbled a lot, but in retrospect, it was actually kind of sweet." A soft smile of remembrance flitted across his features. "I hope she remembers it the same way."

"Oh, Dan, but that is romantic!" She protested and he shook his head in amusement. Sometimes, the female mind completely baffled him. "I'm sure she has good memories of it. Who is she, anyway?" She arched an eyebrow at him, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"If I tell you that it was after the senior play, and she had one of the leading roles, would you be able to figure it out?" he asked teasingly. He watched as her mind went to work and a moment later she grinned.

"Jane. Jane Morgan," she said triumphantly and he nodded. "Well, I never knew...." Her voice trailed off as she traveled through her memories of their high school days. A few moments later, one small hand reached out and caressed his taut stomach, its touch like soft butterfly kisses. "Dan," she said softly, "I think I'd like to do it again, if we could." From underneath her demurely lowered eyelashes, her eyes twinkled mischievously. Her hand strayed even lower and he inhaled sharply.

"We definitely could!" He assured her, rolling to lay on top of her and claiming her laughing lips with his.

From beside the bed, Guido the cat blinked and lay down with a flick of his feathery tail. They weren't ready to sleep just yet.

~*~*~*~*~*~

 **  
SIX MONTHS LATER   
**

Dan thought he hated nothing as much as he hated housework. What actually was the point? Everything he was putting away was only going to reappear in a couple days; that is if he could remember where he put it. And it was definitely a waste of a good afternoon off.

"And you!" He turned to glare at the unconcerned cat curled up on the mat by the door. "You shed far too much! It's a wonder you're not bald! Stop it right now, ya hear!" Guido blinked at him, and Dan grinned. "I know, I'm silly," he said, returning to his chores. He scooped up a handful of CDs from the end table and began to put them in their tower. At the third one, he stopped, a wistful look coming over his features. He flipped open the case, extracted the CD and slid it into the player. Trixie's music. Loreena McKennitt. He had grown to love this soft, relaxing music.

She had been gone for three weeks now, and he thought he was dealing with it rather well, all things considered. He was certain she had no idea of the depth of his feelings for her. When she had come barrelling into the apartment, waving her letter about, shrieking his name in delight, he had managed to put a real smile on his face and be pleased that CNN had finally seen the light and hired her. All he really wanted to do was burn the darned letter and forget that the all-news station had ever been launched. Their time was finished, he realised. But what a time they'd had!

  
He thought of all the crazy things they had done together. Dancing 'til dawn at an all night club in the Bronx. More than one weekend trip on his motorcycle headed to wherever. Skinny-dipping in the pool of that little Mom and Pop hotel they had stayed at during one of those trips. Marathon Trivial Pursuit games accompanied by bottles of wine or pots of coffee. The matching tattoos, his on the back of his left shoulder, hers on the gentle curve of her left buttock. Celtic friendship knots, the tattoo guy had said. Oh, yeah, they'd had a time!

And the love-making! Dan grinned in spite of himself. Trixie had certainly learned quickly. And she was very inventive, he'd discovered. She had blossomed into a woman who no longer felt that there was something wrong with her because a man didn't want to take her to bed. She discovered that she had sexual power and she reveled in it. She was now very sure of herself and he was happy that he'd had something to do with the change.

Was there a piece of furniture in the apartment that they hadn't christened? There was still a slight blue stain on the carpet from the night they had experimented with Mrs. Belden's homemade blueberry jam. Moms had never intended that it be put to that use!

How he missed her sunny smile upon waking! He was unable to be grouchy when she woke up beside him. He missed the fresh scent of her that seemed to permeate all his bathtowels, even after they'd been washed, her notes for her current story scattered about his kitchen table, that awful strawberry pop that she loved to drink and he couldn't stand. There were still a couple of bottles on the top shelf of his refrigerator.

There were signs of her everywhere about his apartment. She had never really gone back to her own place after the fumigation, declaring that his was much more couple-friendly. She only had a studio, after all, she explained. He honestly thought that it was more because she felt she could be more free, more devil-may-care in his surroundings. He missed her warm body curled into his at night, the sound of her even breathing as she slept, the feeling of her arms slipping around him when he came home after a long shift.

"But I did what she wanted," he consoled himself aloud. "I gave her a summer and a fall of fun. No worries. I let her be just what she needed to be." He sank down on the sofa, letting the music give him a small measure of tranquility. She had thrived on his attentions, and, he admitted to himself, he had thrived on hers. It had been a long time since he had felt so young and free.

Now she was off to Atlanta, headed for a new challenge in her life. A career move that she admitted both excited and terrified her. She had no doubts that she could handle whatever they chose to throw at her, and he heartily agreed. He was looking forward to seeing her first televised report.

He thought back to the day of her departure. They had loaded up her small, compact car with all the worldly goods it could carry. The rest of her belongings had been put in storage until she found a place in Atlanta and her apartment here in the city had been subletted. Trixie had said that she wanted to get an early start, but when they had awakened with the rising sun, by tacit agreement they had stayed in bed, holding each other and reminiscing about their time together. Then they had made love for one last time, not sadly or regretfully, but with the joy they had found with each other. Afterwards, she had looked intently in his eyes with her clear, blue gaze and said, "Dan, these past months have wonderful for me. The things you have show me about myself, the confidence you have given me, the sharing of you, the real you; all of these things are the most precious gift anyone ever presented me with. You showed me how to be free; how to fly. Thank you." Then she had kissed him, softly yet deeply. That was when he'd realised exactly how much he'd meant to her.

He had always loved Trixie, and he expected that he always would. And she loved him. She just wasn't in love with him, he'd winced at the quaintness of his thought. But it was true. And being truly honest with himself, he admitted that they could never stay together. Not for the rest of their lives, no matter how much he wished otherwise. She would eventually become resentful and angry that she couldn't love him as she thought he deserved to be loved, and of course he would become equally as resentful that her feelings just weren't as strong as his. Trixie needed to love and to be in love. No halfway measures. And he didn't want anything less for her.

So he'd let her go. No tears, no sadness, no sorrow or regrets. He'd put her in her car, ran his hand one last time through her mass of curls, kissed her lightly and said good-bye. He pretended not to notice that her eyes were unusually bright in the afternoon sun and that her lips were trembling slightly about the corners as she smiled up at him. She would have hated that. He watched her little car start off down the street, stop at the stop sign at the corner, then as it turned to head off out of sight, a slim arm shot out the window, waved and just before it was out of sight, the hand clenched into a thumbs-up sign and was gone.

The final notes of the CD echoed in the apartment and Dan smiled wistfully. He was going to miss the "Wild Child" he'd spent the last months with dreadfully. But life went on. It had to. His broken heart would mend eventually, but there'd be no scars. Trixie had loved him for a short while and it had been glorious!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Trixie sat on the couch in her new Atlanta apartment, wrapped in the plaid, flannel shirt that she had spirited out of Dan's apartment. 'Sun King' was playing on the radio and she was thinking of Dan. He would never know just how badly she wished that she'd been able to fall in love with him. She loved him almost as much as she'd loved Jim, but she wasn't in love with him.

There were two pictures on the top of her TV now. The one of all seven Bob-Whites that had always been there, the twin to the one in Dan's apartment. And the new addition. Dan on his motorcycle, hair windblown, grinning that grin, looking so terribly sexy in that damned black leather jacket.

She pulled the shirt around her tightly and spoke to the man in the photograph. "I so wish that it could have been different. But you, of all people, deserve a woman who would be so totally in love with you that she couldn't even fathom not being by your side." She sighed. "I wish it could have been me." A tear rolled from her brimming eyes.

"It would have been glorious!"

  
**  
_FIN_   
**   



End file.
